[The Sisters<br> Complete by Georg Ebers]@TWC D-Link book
The Sisters
Complete

CHAPTER XXV
2/18

But Cleopatra seemed to take little pleasure in all these things, and said: "Yes, everything is admirable, just as it has always been every year for the last twenty years; but I did not come here to see but to listen." Her brother was radiant with satisfaction; she on the contrary was pale and grave, and, could only now and then compel herself to a forced smile.
"I fancied," said Euergetes, "that your desire to wish me joy was the principal thing that had brought you here, and, indeed, my vanity requires me to believe it.

Philometor was with me quite early, and fulfilled that duty with touching affection.

When will he go into the banqueting-hall ?" "In half an hour; and till then tell me, I entreat you, what yesterday you--" "The best events are those that are long in preparing," interrupted her brother.

"May I ask you to let the children, with their attendants, retire for a few minutes into the inner rooms ?" "At once!" cried Cleopatra eagerly, and she pushed her eldest boy, who clamorously insisted on remaining with his uncle, violently out of the door without giving his attendant time to quiet him or take him in her arms.
While she was endeavoring, with angry scolding and cross words, to hasten the children's departure, Eulaeus came into the room.

Euergetes, as soon as he saw him, set every limb with rigid resolve, and drew breath so deeply that his broad chest heaved high, and a strong respiration parted his lips as he went forward to meet the eunuch, slowly but with an enquiring look.
Eulaeus cast a significant glance at Hierax and Cleopatra, went quite close up to the king, whispered a few words into his ear, and answered his brief questions in a low voice.
"It is well," said Euergetes at last, and with a decisive gesture of his hand he dismissed Eulaeus and his friend from the room.
Then he stood, as pale as death, his teeth set in his under-lip, and gazing blankly at the ground.
He had his will, Publius Cornelius Scipio lived no more; his ambition might reach without hindrance the utmost limits of his desires, and yet he could not rejoice; he could not escape from a deep horror of himself, and he struck his broad forehead with his clenched fists.


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